


The Survivalist

by darndungeon



Category: Darkest Dungeon (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, but mostly an exploration on dismas' past, light alcohol consumption, some headcanons about the survivalist identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:00:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26724040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darndungeon/pseuds/darndungeon
Summary: Dismas confirms his suspicions the mysterious survivalist setting camp in the hamlet is someone he knew from his past brigand life. Their reminiscences are plagued by mentions of their former boss, Vvulf, and Dismas is forced to face some buried memories and old wounds through this short reunion.
Relationships: Dismas & Survivalist
Comments: 11
Kudos: 14





	The Survivalist

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks @Vault_Emblem for beta work, and @Carpe_Natem for first reading it, pointing some changes and encouraging me to post it! It's a simple one, but I hope you enjoy it regardless. Let me know your thoughts in the comments :)

\-------

It took some time for Dismas to hear of the woman setting camp on the outskirts of the hamlet. Apparently the heir allowed her stay, he could use her to teach some survival skills to the rookies. Dismas of course didn't need any of that: growing up as an outlaw he knew everything he needed to survive. She was probably a reformed one too... If not a former criminal, the woman was at the very least a con artist, judging by how much she charged to teach some basic first aid or how to scout around silently. Basic shit every rookie brigand knew. If asked, Dismas could teach all of this for half the price and still make a profit, but he just didn't have the patience. Sure, she also taught some more advanced things to some, a few skills even Dismas didn’t know, but this was something he purposely chose to ignore in his rhetoric.

What piqued Dismas’ curiosity wasn’t just her talent, but mostly that people said she was but a young woman. There weren’t many women among the brigands back in his days, at least not within this area's gang. Maybe times had changed. Or maybe… No, it couldn’t be her, Dismas thought to himself while climbing the hill that led to her campsite, pushing the gnawing suspicion to the back of his mind.

It was a little after dinner time when Dismas got up there. She was drinking and sat at a tree trunk, staring at him with no visible reaction as he stepped closer, stopping in front of the bonfire a few steps from her. Her face was half obscured by a hood, but he knew it right away.

“Need something?” She asked curtly, putting down her bottle and discreetly reaching for a weapon under her coat. Yep, that’s a bandit for you. That’s her. Dismas cut right to the chase. He pulled his coat sleeve on his arm, rolling up the shirt underneath and showed her the V scar on his right wrist. She froze in place, staring at the scar and then at his face, a snarl forming on her lips and her knife arm tensing.

“You can relax. Like you, I’m no longer with them.” He said, rolling down his sleeve and readjusting his cuffs. Dismas knew that single phrase had everything she needed to know for now. He couldn’t see her eyes but her posture remained tense for a moment. As Dismas kept still and maintained his distance, she seemed to sheath back her concealed knife, but kept her hand in there just in case. She hadn't decided if she trusted him just yet.

“What’s your deal?” She demanded, casually adjusting the strap of her holstered musket around her. Little intimidation tricks, Dismas knew them all. He faked a laugh, pulling down his neckerchief to offer her a crooked smile.

“Is that a way to treat an old pal?” He waited as she shifted her head to better look at his face, her squinted eyes barely visible under her hood, the campfire casting dancing shadows on her face. It took a full minute until her eyes widened in recognition.

“Dismas?” She said, a confused grimace on her face.  
He shrugged in confirmation. Cat's out of the bag now.

“Took you long enough.” He teased, to which she just scoffed.

“Not my fault you look like shit now.”  
She had this deadpan look on her face, Dismas couldn’t help but laugh.

“The face scar and the nose looked familiar.” She went on, guards lower now, “I wasn't sure though, you look way older than you should be.”

“How old do you even think I am?” He asked, feigning being offended. She shrugged, looking down to the ground while talking.

“Not sure. You looked in your mid twenties back then... I'd say about fifty now?”

“Wow, that's so precise.” He laughed humourless, his bruised ego already plenty aware of this ugly truth. “I aged exactly thirty years in one decade and a half, very hurtful.”

“They do say dogs age faster.” She taunted, a smirk betraying her serious face. Wow. He couldn’t possibly think of a good comeback, so he just shook it off.

“It's not like you're that little lass anymore either, Maria.” She shifted at the unusual familiarity of her name, wrapping her arms tighter around herself.

Dismas casually stepped back, giving her some space. He knew very well that feeling of being alien to the sound of your own name. They shared another dead silent moment, the sound of the campfire crackling in the stillness of the night.

“Has it really been _fifteen_ years since you left?” She said quietly after a while, hood falling back slightly as she met his gaze. Her dark eyes were equally as tired as his, she’d been through some shit.

“Sixteen I think.” He said, a mix of pride and sadness on his voice. “Solo career and on the run ever since.” _Well, at least up until recently_ , he thought to himself.

She stared at him for a minute too long, then to the ground again, clasping her hands in front of her, seemingly lost in thought.  
“F--” She tried to say, but faltered. It took her a minute before trying again.  
“Vvulf... kinda lost his mind after you left.”

Dismas should have known this would come up, but he was taken aback at the mention of the name regardless. He swallowed thickly as she continued.

“He became paranoid, you know? Wouldn't trust anybody anymore. By the end of it, not even me.” She said between pauses, a sneer forming on her face.

“Thought he was used to backstabbers and betrayals.” Dismas said, voice more strained than he’d like. He lamely kicked the dirt under his boot.

“Not from his pupil, his right-hand man.”

Her words weighed heavy on Dismas’ shoulders, and she seemed to notice it. “Not blaming you for leaving though. Not anymore at least.” She grabbed her bottle once again. “Life was hell after the fact though, that much won’t change.”

Dismas never knew his actions would have consequences on his former comrades. Heck, he never really cared about it in all honesty--the old him wouldn’t even feel bothered by it. He was starting to curse this newfound acquired conscience of his...

“Sorry 'bout that.” He said with a frown, then thought for a second longer. “Let me be clear, 'not sorry for leaving. Just... for making things harder to everyone, I guess.”

She stared at him emotionless, then shrugged it off. “It was a matter of time anyway…” she said mostly to herself, though Dismas wasn't sure what exactly she was referring to. She gestured for him to take a seat at the end of the tree trunk, and he obliged. They sat in uncomfortable silence for a while as she drank.

He stared at the blazing fire, unsure of what to even say, hands on his coat pockets playing with whatever there was inside. His little whetstone, his lucky coin. Relics from another time, all probably not much older than the woman sitting across from him now. All of them unfortunately tied to Vvulf, Maria and Dismas included.

“You know…” He started, taking a moment to scramble through old long buried memories. “You were probably too young to remember, but he was already losing it before I bolted... Becoming crueler.” He added flatly, taking the coin out to absentmindedly toss it in the air with a flick of a thumb. “That's one of the reasons why I left anyway.”

He thought back to the night Vvulf single-handedly killed an entire man’s innocent family just out of spite, mom, wife and kids included. Such a needless display of cruelty... That was when Dismas decided he didn't want to be like Vvulf anymore. The irony of it all is so bitter in his mouth now. She didn't need to know any of this though. As she kept silent, he went on.

“It wasn't an easy decision you know? To leave the brigands. Vvulf... he taught me almost everything I know.” Dismas admitted. “The old man was like a father to me.” He said, the disgusting truth cutting him like a blade. A long pause, he exhaled through his nostrils humourless before adding: “I guess that's why I always kinda saw you like a little sister.”

At this, she snorted a laugh, covering her mouth at the apparent absurdity.  
“Really? I used to see you more like an uncle!”

Ouch. “You sure know how to put an old man into his place!” They both shared a genuine laugh, chests a little lighter after the moment. She looked younger when she smiled, but the same probably wasn’t true for Dismas.

“You didn’t act much like a brother at all, Dismas.” She added after a while, a bittersweet tone on her voice. “You’d never even play with me.” In that, she was right. Dismas had always been more like a cool, distant older brother rather than the affectionate kind. However, a memory stuck out to him.

“Ah come on, we used to have so much fun playing ‘snitch’ together, don’t you remember?” Dismas said, barely containing the shit eating grin tempting to form at the memories. She rolled her eyes.

“Those were just stakeout missions, and you fooled me into alerting you when the target was approaching... Took me years to figure it out...” Dismas couldn’t hold back the laughter anymore.

“Oh man, nobody would suspect a little girl…” He said, wiping a tear, breathless from laughing like a hyena. “I really was a genius ahead of the times…”

“Such a good uncle you were.” She scoffed, trying to sound stern, but there was fondness in her voice. They exchanged a warm look before she focused on her bottle again, a small smile on her face. “Uncle Dismas…” She mumbled to herself, shaking her head. As she went to finish off her drink though, her expression suddenly darkened and she froze in place.

Dismas stared at her in worry, at the shellshocked look in her eyes.

“I remember now…” She started, gaze distant. “F-father used to call you that in front of me. Uncle Dismas.” A cold shiver ran up Dismas spine. It took her a minute to go on, her senses coming back to her.

“He kept the nickname after you left, but the venom on his tongue was terrifying.”

Dismas dread was sinking deeper into his stomach the more he heard about Vvulf.  
Another long unsettling silence stretched between them. Dismas flicked his lucky coin in the air repeatedly.

“I was against the posters, you know...” She said, finally confirming a suspicion Dismas has had for the last decade. “I resented you for leaving, I didn't want you back but I didn't want you dead either.”

“That... was an impressive bounty Vvulf put on my head, huh.” Dismas let out a nervous laughter, dropping his coin and only noticing his shaking hands when failing to pick it back from the floor.

“He never intended on paying it though. He just wanted you dead, or at the very least he wanted you to suffer.”

“That he accomplished...” Dismas mused. Life sure was harder after his face was stamped on those wanted posters all around the state. “Made some rookie mistakes because of it…” He paused. He didn’t want to follow that thread anymore.

“Anyway… I guess that's why I ended up here.” He sighed heavily, finally grabbing his coin and staring at it for a second before pocketing it again. “A shithole so shitty not even Vvulf would come to raid.”

“My thoughts exactly.” She said, raising her bottle of booze to down the rest of it in one go. Dismas stared at her tired closed eyes and vaguely wondered when she had decided to leave them behind, or what could have pushed her to abandon her own father. But he didn't really want to hear about Vvulf anymore. That was a part of his past he was willing to let die.

“He's gone completely crazy now, you know?” She said, interrupting his thoughts and tossing the empty bottle aside. She wiped her mouth on her sleeves and rested her elbows on her knees, absentmindedly staring at the fire. “I wouldn't be surprised if any of these days he finds out I'm here and just... destroys this whole hamlet out of revenge.”

Dismas stared a minute too long at the distant hamlet downhill behind the dancing flames of the bonfire, a newfound confidence burning inside.

“I’d like to see him try.” Dismas grinned, all foolish bravado against the sudden threat of the ghost of his past. She looked at him like he was stupid, but couldn’t hide the smirk.

“You once fled from Vvulf right at your prime. What makes you think you can take him down now, you old dog?” She stated the obvious. “What are you going to do against his bombs?”

To this, Dismas chuckled and thought back of his new comrades back at the barracks. Thought of the bonds he formed with some of the fiercest people he’s ever met. Thought of his own new honed skills he’s learned nowhere else but here, in this shithole. Sure, Vvulf and the guys were tough, but he was surprised he wasn’t scared of facing him. Not when he thought of them.

_Gee, when did I become such a sap?_

“What’s changed, Dismas?” She asked with a sad smile. Dismas pulled up his neckerchief again, feeling too exposed all of a sudden. He shrugged, knowing full well he might as well die at the hands of Vvulf if said day would come, but he couldn’t care less now.

“I know I’m not alone anymore. ‘Tis all.” Dismas said in one breath, staring at the dark looming sky. He wasn’t sure if she hadn’t heard him or if she just didn’t care for his sappy answer, but they fell back into quietness, a comfortable silence this time.

A doubt kept gnawing at the back of his mind though.

“If Vvulf finds out about you…” Dismas broke the silence, “You think he wouldn't want you back?” Maria was Vvulf's little princess as far as he remembered… She smirked at him.

“Not after what I've done. Nuff said.” She said pointedly, with a smile.

Dismas curiosity was piqued, but he knew better than to ask about it now. They've shared a knowing look as she snickered in mischief. She took two new bottles from her pack and tossed one to Dismas. They've clinked it and cheered.

“Well, what’s done is done. To living one day at a time, I guess.” He said lamely. She laughed and corrected him: “To surviving!”  
And they drank in silence staring at the fire crackling.


End file.
